Sam was in full sprint when he caught up with the day-glow orange Frisbee, managing to snatch it out of the air just before it hit the ground. He turned back to see a big grin on Carlos, who had thrown it. He always liked to lead Sam with his throws a step further than he probably should, mainly because he liked to make Sam run.
Sam glanced around at the fray of players dashing and defending around him. The tight cluster of activity would have doomed any short throw. Then he caught a glimpse of a pale yellow shirt on the far side of the throng, moving away. He smiled to himself as he pivoted, wound up, and let loose a backhand toss which launched the Frisbee on a long arching trajectory. It seemed like he was merely tossing it away in a random fashion down the field, but it soon became apparent that his throw was by brilliant design. Laura had broken loose and sprinted to the end-zone in time to meet Sam's throw. The Frisbee softly landed in her hands as though it was waiting to drop on her when she arrived. Score.
Sam received a few high-fives and Laura trotted back to him with a big smile. She flicked the Frisbee to him as the teams started to line up for another round. Sam handed Carlos the Frisbee while waving for someone on the sideline.
“I need a rest.”
“No problem, Maxie, I got this,” Carlos replied with a grin as another player came in to trade spots with Sam.
Sam jogged to the water cooler and got a drink. The rain shower had cooled things off, but the humidity still made the game an oppressive affair. After a couple of gulps, he sat down and poured the rest of the water over his head.
“Hey there,” Susan greeted as she plopped down next to him and attempted a hug.
“Careful,” Sam recoiled. “Not hug-able right now.”
“Ew,” Susan reacted as she retracted her hand and wiped it on the grass. “Sorry, I should have seen that.”
“Didn't you go tubing down the river?”
“We got back a little while ago. I see you and Laura are back to normal. That's like the third time you've thrown to her for a score, right?”
“Still upset with her?”
“Not so much.”
“It's funny, she always seems to know where to go--”
“And you know where she's going to be,” Susan finished. “Ugh, what could have been. Oh well, her loss.”
“It's probably for the best. We never had any real chemistry. We always seem to be on the same wavelength when we do things like this, but then it's so hard just to talk to her.”
“It's not just you. I think Little-Miss-Can't-be-Wrong out there would be a challenge for any boyfriend, unless you're into being constantly corrected.”
“Didn't you think we'd make a great--”
“So I sort of suck at matchmaking,” Susan interrupted while playfully hitting his arm. “First day at the new job tomorrow. Nervous?”
“A little.”
“When are you moving?”
“The movers come on Thursday. The guys are throwing me a going-away party on Saturday.”
“I know. I'm bringing the drinks. Are you going to make an effort to stay in touch?”
Sam hesitated. “I'll try to get down as time allows.”
“Seriously, do I look that gullible?”
“Not selling it?”
“About as good as I am at matchmaking.”
Sam paused and sighed. “Okay, I have an idea. Let's make a pact.”
“A pact?” Susan perked up. “Now you have my interest.”
“Let's commit to dinner together once a month.”
“Only once?” Susan asked with a sly smile.
“You're pushing it.”
“Once a month sounds promising,” Susan replied and held up her hand. “Pinky swear?”
Sam laughed and hooked pinkies with her. “Pinky swear.”
“You'd better find a nice place because I'm not settling for fast food.”
“I'll scout the area for good restaurants.”
“You'd better.”
They sat and watched the game. After the next score, Susan watched Carlos walk off the field and sit with Angela.
“Do you really think those two are a good idea?”
Sam snickered. “What, you have doubts about them, too?”
“Who else mentioned it?”
“Laura did the other day.”
“Well, what do you know? I actually agree with her on something.”
“I'm not worried about them.”
Susan paused as she continued to watch them. She soon leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I might suggest you reconsider that notion.”
“Please don't tell me you read vibes, too.”
“Vibes? That sounds so Laura.”
“Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on them.”
“Just don't get distracted, mister.”
Tuesday, July 5, 1994
Blanchard Corporation - Chelmsford, Massachusetts
Sam walked towards the entrance of Blanchard building number two wearing the only other suit he owned. He carried a portfolio folder with him, the only thing he'd been told he'd probably need. Despite this, his nervous mind raced over what he could of forgotten to bring. He even stopped to discretely check to see if his fly was zipped up.
He entered a lobby that was smaller and more plainly decorated than the headquarters building. The receptionist was pleasant but not as welcoming or attractive as the one in the corporate lobby. She barely lifted her head from her busy typing as Sam approached.
“Hi, I'm Sam Maxwell. Starting my new job today.”
“Oh, welcome to the tombs. I'll let Ken know you're here.”
Sam nodded and looked around the spartan lobby as a call was made to Ken. A minute later, Ken emerged from a badge-controlled door at the side. He stood roughly the same height as Sam, five-ten, and had distinctive Polynesian features.
“Sam?” Ken asked with a wide smile.
“Mister Onakea?”
“Please, it's Ken.” A hearty handshake was exchanged. “It's nice to finally meet you face-to-face. Our new interview processes are quite unique, as you probably noticed. I'm still getting used to the idea of meeting my new-hires on their first day of work.”
“It was certainly unique.”
Ken laughed as he gestured to the side door. “Let's get started. We'll have a badge ready for you by the end of the day. It'll get you into most of our buildings around the country and even in a couple of our international facilities.”
Sam followed him through the doorway, down a bland corridor, and past busy clusters of cubicles. Ken offered a couple of halfhearted greetings and waves as they passed. It was difficult for Sam to decipher if Ken was being casual with his employees or if there was tension between them. It was still better than having managers walk by without any acknowledgment, as Sam was accustomed to in his previous job.
Ken's office wasn't what Sam expected. Instead of an office that conveyed authority by flaunting trophies, certificates, and a nice view, it had a low-key, lived-in appearance. It also featured a row of windows that looked into overgrown bushes at the side of the building.
“Please sit. I just wanted to take some time for us to talk since I didn't get the opportunity to interview you. Once we're done here, I'll walk you over to the corporate offices to start your orientation. Your office is just down the hallway, so we can stop by to take a look on our way out. There's not much to see yet. You'll need to choose your desk and other furniture you think you'll need.” Ken paused as he dug out a worn office supply catalog and pushed it over to Sam. “I think the desks are at the back.”
“I get to choose a new one?”
“Yeah, everything left in company surplus is junk. Just don't go crazy and pick something that's too big for your office.”
“Thanks,” Sam muttered as he put the catalog on his lap.
Ken leaned forward and smiled. “I hope you're ready for the launch of what I anticipate to be a very interesting and satisfying career.” He paused, smirked, and leaned back in his seat. “O
kay, so much for the standard company BS welcome pitch. Here's what you really need to know. Your position is new because my project is growing like a weed and I'm having trouble keeping an eye on it all. Overall, you'll be working with good people. So please don't worry about getting stuck dealing with a bunch of dicks and assholes.”
Sam chuckled. “I'm used to it anyway. Smithfield was full of them.”
“That's what I've heard. I'm not going to promise that you won't ever have to deal with that around here. We all act that way once in a while but it's not the norm.”
“It'll be a nice change.”
“Sam, aside from becoming a human sponge and learning everything you can, the essential thing I need from you as our new auditor is to fight against complacency. This project has been going very well, so far. There are great people working on it. However, there's always pressure to do things just a little bit better and faster. I want you to make sure that better and faster isn't done by taking stupid shortcuts. This is a project with a quarter-billion-dollar a year budget, mostly footed by the U.S. Government. It naturally comes attached to a number of government processes which will seem unduly burdensome. I, quite frankly, think most of them are a complete waste of time and soak up resources that could be used elsewhere. But I can't afford to allow that mindset to take over. Violations of these dysfunctional waste-of-time processes can really bite us in the ass. We've already received two GAO warnings, so we're starting to skate on thin ice. You need to keep our people's attention on the important details. Understood?”
“Understood.”
“Good. Now you're off to orientation for a couple of days, then I'll lead you through the project and introduce you to all sorts of people when you get back. Don't sweat over remembering everything right off. I'll make sure the important stuff sticks. Oh, and if you don't have a nice carry-on bag, get one. You'll be heading to Phoenix with me on the seventeenth for a few days. How many suits do you own?”
Sam winced. “Only two.”
“Get a couple more decent suits. Dress code is pretty relaxed around here, but you're going to have to look the part when you travel. No offense, but you'll need to leverage anything you can to look like you didn't just step off the graduation podium. When do you move in to The Regal?”
“Thursday.”
“Good. I'm glad you're getting that out of the way soon so you don't have any distractions when you're back from orientation.” Ken stood up. “So, are you ready for a little adventure?”
CHAPTER FIVE
Saturday, July 9, 1994
Bridge House - Lexington, Massachusetts
“So, what's your new place like?” Ron asked Sam.
“Just a one bedroom apartment,” Sam replied. “It's nice, but a little small. I suppose anything would seem small when compared to this place.”
“Hey, you're the one who wanted to take the new company perks,” Tom jokingly chided. “Still not too late to change your mind. The commute wouldn't be that bad.”
“I have a five-minute commute from my new place. My car hardly warms up.”
“We can't compete with that,” Ron conceded to Tom, which drew some laughs from a few others who were listening.
In all, over forty people showed up to Sam's going away party. It was a pleasant surprise to him, as he never thought he was so popular in a church group that he never completely connected with. He looked up at the clock because three people were conspicuously absent: Laura, Angela, and Carlos. Being fashionably late was always the thing to do, but they were now well beyond that.
“How did the first week on the new job go?” Tom asked.
“My head is still spinning. It's a great place, but there's a lot to learn.”
“Being busy is usually a good sign,” Ron said.
“I'm going to get another drink,” Sam announced as he got up from the kitchen table. He walked out back, exchanging a number of greetings along the way.
“Hey, whadya have?” Susan cheerfully asked from behind a long table full of soda and lemonade. They never allowed alcohol to be served at their gatherings.
“What are you doing back there?”
“Serving drinks.”
“Really? Since when did you ever--”
“Can I get you something or not?” Susan interrupted.
“Lemonade, and please stop acting like hired help.”
“Whatever you want,” Susan replied as she poured him a cup. “It's your party.”
“Pour yourself a drink and come with me, please.”
They both found a place to sit just off the back porch. The daylight was fading and the exterior lights from the house cast a gentle radiance on the backyard. A volleyball game was still in progress despite the quickly vanishing daylight. They always played until they couldn't see the ball anymore.
“So,” Sam started, “what's with you serving drinks?”
“Trying to stay busy. If I stop, I start thinking too much and get depressed.”
Sam looked around the back yard. “We had some good times here.”
“That's not helping.”
“Sorry.”
“But you're right,” Susan reflectively conceded. “I can't take a few steps around here without being overcome by all the memories. It's just not going to be the same without you around.”
Sam laughed. “Come on, Sues. Not much is really changing. The group is still here. The parties and studies will still go on. There are plenty of new memories waiting to be made.”
Susan smirked and rolled her eyes. “Nice try.”
“Things change sooner or later. There will even come a day when this won't be the house everyone hangs out at. That will be a much sadder day.”
“Maybe,” Susan said and then took in a deep breath. “You know, I've really never bothered you much about God and our faith. I know you're not in a place where you're comfortable with it, but there comes a time when you just have to talk a little about it. I think God put you here for the past couple of years on purpose. He put you around these people to show you something. They're all here tonight to celebrate that. I hope it's something you'll never forget.”
Sam felt a sudden rush of nostalgia overtake him. “Sues, I honestly admit that compared to all the college parties I've ever gone to, whether I was sober enough to remember them or not, my time around you guys has always been a lot more meaningful. You're all a little bit whacked, but generally in a good way. I'll try to be around, but whatever happens, there's no way I'm ever going to let you drift away.”
Susan looked away and pouted.
“Oh, come on,” Sam quipped. “That was me being honest and reflective, which took a lot of practice. Can't I at least get a smile?”
“Sam, what really happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“What made you want to leave? It can't be the commute.”
Sam hesitated and watched the volleyball game.
“Please tell me,” Susan softly pleaded. “We always tell each other everything, no matter how embarrassing. Don't make me give you the sad puppy-dog eyes.”
“Sues, I'm just--” Sam paused as he caught sight of Laura coming out the back door. She scanned around and the troubled look in her eyes sent a chill through him. She quickly caught sight of him and walked over.
“Hi, Sues,” she greeted with a tense smile before turning to Sam. “We really need to talk, now. I'm sorry, Sues.”
Susan turned to Sam. “Sounds important. You'd better get this.”
Sam got up and followed Laura around the side of the house. She stopped in the driveway and looked around to make sure they were alone.
“What's the matter?”
“It's Angela. Something's very wrong. She never came home last night. Then she just showed up a little while ago and seemed pretty upset.”
Sam's heart sank. “She was out with Carlos last night.”
“I couldn't get anything out of her. She locked herself in her bedroom. Emily's still back at the apartment trying to
talk to her. I think something very bad happened. Has he talked to you?”
“I've been busy all day and haven't heard from him.”
Laura's tone turned stern. “If he did anything to her--”
“I'll knock the living shit out of him if he did,” Sam snarled as he turned to walk to his car.
“Where are you going?”
“To find out what happened.”
“You're really going to walk out on your own party?” Laura asked and watched in stunned amazement as he charged off. She had never seen him this angry or heard him use foul language before.
Sam tried to control his building ire as he drove to Carlos's apartment in Watertown. He rented a one-bedroom loft in a large Victorian, and the parking was always a challenge on the crowded side street.
Sam climbed the side staircase to the loft in darkness. Carlos had not turned on the stairwell light, but his car was parked in the narrow driveway. Sam rang the doorbell and waited. Carlos didn't answer, but the inside lights were on. After a second ring, Sam decided to just go in. The door wasn't locked, which wasn't unusual. Carlos was fairly casual about security.
“Hey, are you decent?” Sam called out as he entered the small kitchen.
“Yeah,” a faint voice replied from the adjoining living room.
Sam entered and found Carlos sitting on his recliner. He was staring at the wall with a half-empty bottle of vodka at his side.
“You okay?”
Carlos slowly looked at Sam with a stinging look of despondency. “Maxie. Hi. You just get here?”
“What's going on?”
“Guess I'm still a little hung over.”
“No shit. What happened with Angela last night?
“It wasn't my best night. Sorry, I think I fucked up pretty bad.”
“Now you're scaring me,” Sam seethed as he sat on the couch. “Laura said Angela just got back and is pretty upset. Where has she been?”
“I don't know. She left here a little after midnight, I think.”
Sam took a deep breath to calm himself. “What happened? What did you do to her? I want the truth.”
The Initiative: In Harm's Way (Book One) Page 7